


Firelight - A Suriel Fic

by eliniel



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10016879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: The last of the Suriel gather to share tales of their journeys.





	

Inside of a dark cave, a fire crackled in the night. The light could be seen from quite a distance, but they had no reason to fear the night-prowling beasts who wandered this forest. Those creatures would scatter the moment they heard the leaves crunching underneath him. He had been walking for hours after an eventful day and was ready for a respite. **  
**

The Suriel stalked closer to the opening. He could already hear the chatter of his ilk as they cackled, telling stories of who had tried to capture them and failed.

“You are late, brother,” one said, turning away from the fire to face him. The others quieted and turned towards the darkness. It had been months and months since he had last seen his siblings. How fortuitous that what had transpired had done so on this very day.

“Indeed,” he said, walking out of the night and into the cave. He stroked the fur on his cloak, admiring the quality, showing off his new acquisition. “It has been…an interesting day.” His sister smiled, a chilling expression that would have stopped anyone but him in their steps. She waved her arm and motioned for him to sit in a spot reserved by the fire.

“It seems you have your own tale to tell, Acaph.” He swept in and sat, the cloak billowing behind him. A large cup was passed to him, and he drank deeply, needing the nourishment after this day’s events. Once he had handed off the cup, he looked to the others. They focused in on him, waiting.

“I have happened upon Feyre Cursebreaker.”

Many of those around him smiled like his sister, their stained teeth visible in the firelight. “Quite a tale, indeed.” A snicker sounded from darkness at the back of the cave.

“You let her catch you again, brother? You are really losing your touch.”

“Hush, Mahir. What did the Cursebreaker require of you?”

The bones of his fingers clicked over one another as he examined them in the dim light.

“It appears that the High Lord of Night was in need of an antidote,” Acaph said, without looking up. “The King of Hybern has been sending his minions into Prythian to dispose of him. Bloodbane on the tips of their arrows.”

His sister, next to him, nodded and took a swig of their drink. He smirked, thinking back to the girl’s reaction.

“But that is not all she learned.”

“She did not know,” his brother, across the fire said, flatly. Every one of them around the fire knew to what he had alluded. Acaph’s smile grew, nearing wild, in confirmation.

“She did not, Saba. Rhysand did not tell her, even after all this time.”

“Interesting.”

“Will she accept?” questioned a woman’s voice ahead of him.

“What do you say, Efa?” Acaph asked, tilting his head to the female sitting straight across from him. She clicked her fingers against her teeth in thought, but stared back at her brother through the flames.

“I don’t believe she will,” she said, lowering her hand from her face.

“What is your reasoning?” Saba asked, turning slightly to look at her, next to him. He reached across to take the cup.

“She feels traitorous,” Efa announced. “Guilty that she left Tamlin behind and now desires another.” Saba scoffed at his sister. “You do not agree, brother?” She snatched the cup from his hand as he was trying to take a sip. He smiled.

“I don’t,” he said, simply. Acaph leaned back on his hands and watched his siblings bicker. Many of the others leaned in to hear. “She will accept. Rhysand will convince her that she is not a traitor. The mating bond runs deeper than anything she ever had with the Spring Court Lord. The girl will realize this.”

“Hmph.” She looked dismayed for only a moment, until the corners of her mouth tipped up. “What would you be willing to wager on that opinion?” He leaned his elbow on a knee and sat forward, chin in hand. The smile on his face was mischievous. A ring glinted on his finger.

“I won this off an unfortunate male from the Summer Court who could not run fast enough after he had asked his question and freed me. And you, Efa?”

“Of course,” she drawled, lifting both hands to her shoulders, where a cloak of ice blue draped. It was tied around her collarbone with a thin, white rope. The fastening ended in little icicle charms that twinkled in flickering light. “This cloak came from the hands of Kallias himself. He brought it as a gift in exchange for…certain details concerning his mate. It is enchanted with heating magic to keep one warm in the harsh winters of their court.”

Saba gave her a nod, accepting her bet, then looked around the circle and opened his arms to the others. “Anyone else willing to gamble with us?”

A low laugh came from his left. “No, but I have some other thoughts on this matter.”

“And your opinion, Mahir?” Acaph inquired, turned his head toward the darkest corner of the cave. He saw the dark outline of his brother straighten from the rock he had been lounging on to his feet. He prowled closer, but not close enough to be illuminated completely. Shadows danced off of his face, his expression eerie as he folded his arms over his chest. They stared at each other for a long moment before he addressed the entire group. Saba settled back in his spot, putting his hands on his knees.

“She will accept the call deep inside of her. But she is destined for much more.”

“Oh?”

“The High Lord of Night will take her to be his mate and wife, of course. But I venture a guess that he will make her more.”

“High Lady?” Saba pressed. The others around the fire looked to one another, quizzical looks on their faces. Mahir nodded, uncrossing his arms and taking a seat on the ground.

“There has not been a High Lady in centuries,” the female next to Acaph stated, skeptical.

“Cursebreaker has been Made. A child of all Courts. This particular combination has never been Made before. It may never again. Rhysand is no fool, Amita.”

“And yet, he has yet to capture me.”

“His ability to capture a Suriel or not does not show his intelligence. You know this.”

“Regardless, I won’t believe it will happen. It would cause far more trouble in Prythian than it is worth,” Amita challenged.

“Since when has Rhysand ever cared about mere talk?”

“But, tradition-”

“Rhysand is not like Tamlin. He is not plagued by the tradition of his forefathers. In fact, I am certain he will want to make as bold a statement as this,” Mahir interrupted. “Would you be willing to bet on it?”

Agitated, she slumped a little and threw a twig into the fire. “You know I do not enjoy those games.” Mahir laughed through his nose.

Quiet settled over them for a long moment while they mulled over what had been said.

“Making her a High Lady does seem a little far-fetched,” the last male, closest to the cave’s entrance, finally voiced. All attention shifted to him.

Mahir shrugged. “Your opinion remains your own, however wrong you may be.” His cruel grin reappeared, goading his brother.

“You were not gifted with complete foresight, just as I was not, Mahir.”

“Of course not, Dovev, but I simply call upon logic as my ever-faithful companion.”

“Mm…”

“You are young, yet, brother. You do not—”

A low snarl escaped from Dovev’s mouth and he leaned forward, as if ready to attack. Amused, the elder of the two paused, mid-sentence, grinning widely.

“Calm yourself, brother. It has been years upon years and you still let Mahir provoke you,” Acaph stated, a slight chuckle in his voice. “You know how he relishes it.” Dovev relaxed a little, but kept the displeased expression plastered on to his face.

“You have been awfully quiet this time, Acaph,” Amita said, tilting her head towards him.

“You know I enjoy watching your squabbles.”

“And what of the Hybern threat?” she asked, laying her arms in her lap. Acaph sat silently for a good while, slowly going through the thoughts and feelings that had gone through the girl in the few minutes he had been with her. She had felt many things. It had confused him, but now that the excitement had died down he was able to deliberate clearly.

“Brother?” Efa said, loudly. He held up a hand to stop her as he continued to think.

“A moment.”

They started talking quietly amongst themselves, continuing making bets on how they think the future would turn out. Finally, his thoughts sorted, he looked up at his siblings.

“I believe the Night Court will attempt to confront him.” The others ceased speaking and stared at him.

“Can they win? Saba inquired. “They only barely overpowered his general. How would they fare against the king himself?” He took a sip from the cup and passed it on to Devov.

“The king is old,” Mahir interjected. “And Feyre Cursebreaker is New.”

“If Rhysand does indeed make her High Lady, they could be unstoppable,” Acaph concluded with a nod. “The most powerful High Lord Prythian has ever known, and his equal.”

He watched Devov tip the cup back, swallowing the last of it’s content, and set it on the dirt floor.

“And are we to play a part in this upcoming war?” he asked, staring into the fire. The air was tense, waiting. The paramount question of the night that was looming over all of their heads.

“Undoubtedly,” Acaph started. He looked out towards the dark woods. He could hear the animals scurrying about with his sharp ears. The sun would begin to rise in one short hour and his siblings would part ways to scour the world. Soon, the war would begin and the face of Prythian would be changed forever. Very soon. “I am convinced that Feyre will call upon us again.”


End file.
